Not the flyest thing on the beach.

So my clothes have suddenly become very tight.

I have managed to narrow it down to one of 2 things:

·         My clothes have shrunk in the wash

·         I have been eating cake for breakfast

I am slightly more inclined to go with door number 1. Just because it means I can live in denial for a bit longer and can still have my cake and eat it.

Along with looking like a sausage squished into backpacker poo-green quick-dry casing I would also like you to picture the following please:

1. I have a moustache.
2. My leg hair is so long it will need to be removed with the aid of a hairdresser’s clippers. And possibly a blow torch.
3. I have a slight monobrow.
4. I can’t remember when I last brushed my hair.
5. I don't know where my hair brush is.
6. I have a rash on my left upper arm.
7. And I don’t know how it happened but I have pretty much lost the toenail on my right big toe.

I have heard on more than one occasion that it is highly possible I might meet my future husband during my travels. It’s just there hasn’t been much interest yet.

AND I CAN’T THINK FOR THE LIFE OF ME WHY.

Bus Bingo

I know it sounds boring but today, people, I am going to tell you about my bus trip. But do feel free to stop reading now if bus trips don’t do it for you.

The Basics

The bus: Cama (which basically means the business class of the open road)

Seats: Leather

Bus conductor: sweet, Spanish

Bus buddy: sweet, Spanish, possibly gay, possibly named Alfredo

First we played bus bingo (Hence the name of this post. Hey, I panicked. I don't usually title my emails and I am still new at this). It was the most fun because I got to practice my Spanish numbers and I feel like the bus really bonded – as encouraging winks and rueful head shakes were exchanged over hard boiled sweets, while the numbers were called. (Well actually that was just me and eventually everyone stopped making eye contact.) Anyway the winner won a bottle of wine and he went up to get it and we all clapped.

And then I chatted to Alfredo next to me for a good while, mostly about his love of Madonna and Lady Gaga. We did attempt to discuss other topics, which weren’t as successful, but I nodded encouragingly anyway. He could have been saying ‘I smell bacon’ for all I know but I still think we shared a moment. He even asked for my name so he could look for me on the Facebook.

And then we watched Scarlett Johansson attempt to not look hot in The Nanny Dairies or ‘Los Diarios de la Ninera’.

And then we got our meal. (Snacky things and chicken casserole and mashed potato!)

And then we slept.

And then we were woken up by a male passenger at the back shouting what sounded suspiciously like soap opera lines in his sleep, but I can’t be sure because they were in Spanish. I am at least 12% certain one of the things he said was something along the lines of ‘You will never get away with this, Fernando’.

And then we slept some more.

And then we got gently roused from our slumber by the conductor with our breakfast and HOT CHOCOLATE!

And then our journey was over and we got off the bus.

Best 11 hour bus trip.

Ever.

The End.

Bitchin' Buenos Aires

Hola.

I have now left BA and am in Rosario (the birthplace of Che Guevara) but I managed to jam pack my last few days with muchas stuff and yes I still heart Buenos Aires.

The short version:

• I watched La Boca Juniors play River Plate and win 2-0 at their home stadium.
• I had the best steak of my 28 years.
• And I went and watched a large group of sweaty Argentines banging on drums.

The long version:

The whole La Boca experience was mostly awesome with some periods of me being more than somewhat annoyed. I don't wish to complain but if I did wish to complain it would go a little something like this:
We were told when we parted with our benjamins that we would be receiving unlimited pizza and beer before the game, followed by unlimited beer afterwards, transport to and from the game and a SEAT at the actual game. We were picked up at our hostel so they get a tick in the box for that. But it soon became apparent that we weren't getting pizza and beer - at least not for some hours. We got to the stadium, queued for several blocks, were patted down for any concealed weapons (which included lipstick) and were ushered to the stands by our guides. Ironically we were in the el cheapo general admission section - ironic because we probably paid the most for our tickets out of everyone in the stadium. Anyway after about 10 minutes of jostling in the crowd we realised that no we didn't actually have a seat and yes we were expected to stand for the next 2 hours with the sun beating down on our fair gringa/o skin before the game even started. Some of you will know what a grumpy guts I can be and I admit I dropped lip and may or may not have actually stomped my foot a few times. But then I had a teaspoon of cement and hardened the (insert Irish cuss word here) up. Well that, or I just got high off the fumes from the dude chain-smoking the green stuff (or waccy baccy as my dad calls it) in front of me and I chilled out sufficiently.

The atmosphere in the crowd was insane and La Boca fans are freaking hardcore! Standing right next to me at the game (well actually on my actual feet) were a mom and dad and their 3 daughters all under the age of 10 who knew all the words to all the songs, including the ones which called the other team 'sons of whores' or something to that effect. I am almost certain I didn't know what a whore was when I was 10. I am glad that La Boca won or someone would have got their asses well stabbed (probably by a 10 year old girl).

Speaking to guys who actually know stuff about football (and who kindly showed me the offside rule with the aid of jenga pieces) the quality of play wasn't on the same level as some of the European teams but at a game like that it's more about the atmosphere and the crowd and shouting obscenities at the ref.

So after the game, I won't lie, I was rather excited at the thought of getting out of the grounds and/or sitting down for a reasonable amount of time. However we first had to wait an hour (or 60 minutes) until the River fans first left the stadium (to avoid unnecessary violence) and then the La Boca fans in the better seats left as well. Once again I almost lost my shit. The guides really should have followed through on their promise on beer before the game because drunk Tracy is WAY more fun and accommodating than sober Tracy who can sometimes be a bit of a big girl's blouse. I think everyone found this out after the game, when we finally received the pizza and beer (that I have bleated on about for 45 paragraphs). Because after 23 beers I couldn't even remember what I had been pissed off about and made friends with everyone IN THE WORLD.

Now I know I could have probably found a cheaper ticket somehow and not gone with the over-priced tour group option (and thus cut out some of my whinging and moaning) but I had heard stories about River fans throwing wee etc on the Boca fans and the possibility of fighting in the crowd and I preferred my first soccer match to remain a urine and violence free experience. So I just went with the safer option. (And just so you don't think I am a complete brat, 97% of the other people were peeved as well and 2 girls on the same tour actually tried to leave because they were so freaked out in the crowd.)

And now to the steak.

Oh the steak.

The day after the soccer and my last full day in BA I went to a restaurant called 'La Cabrera' in Palermo for lunch. And there I experienced 400 grams of utter dopeness - with blue cheese sauce on top of it. Now I know if a steak is really good it doesn't need anything to go with it but I confess I was slightly hung over after the beer-soccer madness from the night before and blue cheese sounded like a plan. I also had an amazing avocado, tomato and heart of palm (similar to artichokes?) salad and afterwards a chocolate volcano pudding with ice cream which was so amazing I almost wept. The whole meal cost me my budget for about 1.54 days in Argentina but it was worth it.

After the meal (that I will probably tell my grandchildren bedtime stories about) I waddled back to my hostel, had a quick wardrobe change and headed out with some people from the hostel to 'La Bomba del Tiempo'. Every Monday night at this cultural centre in Once a group of about 15 or so guys play percussion instruments for a few hours, with several guys taking turns doing the "conducting". I say conducting but it was more like random hand signals, with a whole lot of ass shaking and revving up the crowd. It was probably one of the best things I did while in BA and I know it sounds a bit hippyish but at one point - in the middle of the crowd, while attempting to shake it like a Latin person, listening to the amazing music, I felt so blessed. It was just one of those moments where you think - 'well shit this thing called life is actually rather excellent thank you very much'.

And no nothing happened with the hot Spanish teacher. He kind of avoided me after I asked him if he could translate "I want to run my fingers through your hair" into Spanish. :)

Alive and Kicking!

Hello Readers, (especially Marita and Rob who have lately separately expressed their displeasure at my lack of this thing that is called blogging)

12 thousand apologies for not writing anything in the last 6 weeks or so. Apparently the last post was sad and SURELY I must have been doing fun things since then.

Summary of the last wee while:
A week and a bit was spent detoxing or "cleansing", if you will, on lovely Koh Phangan in Thailand (and yes the sun did eventually come out). I felt SO damn good afterwards: my body was well and truly a fricking temple. Unfortunately I subscribe to the 'All or Nothing' philosophy and so after being kind and respectful to my temple blah blah blah I inhaled a gigantic packet of chocolate chip biscuits (on the ferry trip off the island) about 3 seconds after finishing the cleanse and haven't stopped since. I believe it's called "retoxing".

After eating everything I could lay my hands on in Bangkok for my last few days in Thailand I flew to Zimbabwe for my fabulous cousin, Jo's wedding (where she was joined in holy matrimony to the almost as fabulous Wood.Dog). And needless to actually say but I am going to say it anyway I had the time of my life. I caught up with friends and family and carried on with the above mentioned "retoxing" process with a hen's party, massive wedding, rather large Kariba trip and various catch ups. Shout out to the freaking marvellous people who I reconnected with and also met for the first time. After a month back in deepest darkest I am in serious danger of packing up my life and moving there permanently. I loved it THAT much.

After Zimbabwe I flew to South Africa for a few days and stayed in 'die plek van goud' with the lovely Blond bombshell and her soon-to-be husband. I was treated like a queen and had a whale/wail/wale of a time. I was also SO impressed with Joburg.

And now I am in Buenos Aires, which (I am happy to report) I am loving as much as I thought I would. This place is seriously the poo!

First thing I did was sign up for 4 mornings of Spanish classes so that in theory I will be able to communicate sufficiently with the natives and order wine properly. And I think I am a little bit in love with one of my Spanish teachers. I am going to ask him if he wants me to have his children. If he agrees I will probably just stay here and eat steak and drink espresso for the rest of my days.
Apart from making googly eyes at Juan* I have been walking around just looking at the amazing buildings and places and taking about 5637 photos. I have already met some really dope people and this trip of mine is still but an embryo!

Anyway I need to go drink wine now.
Chau. X

*Name has been changed to protect the identity of the hot Spanish teacher